by Zoe Brown
Once I got back to the office, I finished up all the outstanding paperwork that I had to do relatively quickly and then turned my attention to other tasks, but I encountered an unexpected problem as I tried to bring myself to commit to my work. Brianna’s remarks, from the evening before, about me using Werewoman to turn into a woman myself, and about the pretty Bartender Jade’s potential expectation that I would do so when she sold me the drug, kept coming back to trouble me while I tried to work. The idea itself was sexy, I couldn’t deny that, but I kept pushing the thoughts out of my mind whenever they arose, determined not to let a sexy, kinky fantasy deter me from the work I had in front of me. But no matter what I tried to set my mind to, the fantasies just came back again a few minutes later, doggedly demanding my attention.
The next day was frustratingly similar. After cleaning up my apartment the night before and heading to bed early to make up some lost sleep (though not before enjoying a late night masturbatory session in the shower, thinking about Brianna and the very sexy transformation that I’d witnessed the night before, followed by the even better sex afterwards), I got up bright and early on Friday morning and found my eyes immediately drawn to the drawer by my bedside where I had stashed the bag of Werewoman drugs two evenings previous. Although I tried to push the thought away and to focus on mentally getting ready for the exhausting day of meetings and conference calls that I had planned, I was unable to resist the urge to pull open the drawer, pull out the little baggie full of little pink pills and balance them in my hand for a minute. The fantasies and the desires of the night before last came back to me again, and stayed with me for the rest of the day.
Why had the bartender at Eden’s Lounge sold me those Werewoman pills? Had she really meant that they would literally spice up my male sex life, by implying that I could use them to hook up with Werewomen and have incredible, amazing sex with them? I had originally assumed so, but as time passed, and with what Brianna had said to me preying on my mind, my doubts began to grow. Why would Werewoman pills spice up my sex life, if I was just going to sleep with the beautiful women who were on them? After all, I slept with beautiful women all the time – why should sleeping with a Werewoman be any sexier, unless I was into the idea of Werewomen? And I was definitely into the idea. But did that actually, necessarily mean what Brianna suggested it meant? There were lots of men who found Werewomen compelling, sexy, and who pursued them – was I to assume that they – we – were all secretly interested in the idea of becoming a Werewoman ourselves? That didn’t seem completely plausible. Sure, maybe there were some guys who couldn’t bring themselves to admit that what they really wanted was to become a hot chick themselves, but it couldn’t be every guy who was into Werewomen. After all, there was a perfectly rational alternative explanation: the average cis woman was a woman because she was born a woman. She had no prior say in the matter. The degree to which she enjoyed her womanhood and indulged in femininity was not always a matter of choice for her. But Werewomen chose to become beautiful, sensual women with high sex drives and seemed to typically enjoy classy, sexy feminine gender presentations. There was something… kind of hot and naughty… about that. Especially given that the drug was illicit, if not outright illegal in some places. The idea that someone’s desire to be a beautiful, sexual, sensually elegant and feminine woman was so intense that they would accept a pill given to them by a relative stranger, or buy them outright themselves… that was pretty exciting.
But which was it, in my case? I was definitely turned on by the idea of using Werewoman myself, but was that just a normal reaction to the idea of the drug, or did it mean something more for me? What was the reason why Jade had sold her bag of Werewoman pills to me? Surely she must have more, or ready access to a supplier – she certainly wouldn’t have put her own feminine appearance at risk to make a few bucks off of some bored, older rich guy, right? But why sell them to me at all? What had she seen in me, and… well, what would it mean if she had seen a potential interest in trying out life from the opposite side of the gender divide?
What exactly would that mean? I asked myself at one point in the afternoon, while staring into a two-hundred-dollar plate of gourmet Chinese food that I could only dimly remember ordering. I thought it might have been Hunan Chicken. Or maybe it was Mongolian? I couldn’t tell just by looking. Still, I poked at it and made myself try to conjure up an answer to my question. So what if Jade thinks I might enjoy myself as a woman? Does that actually mean anything about me?
I wanted to answer no, but honestly, I couldn’t quite get myself there. I mean, I’d only spoken to the woman for about an hour, if that, but she’d seemed pretty sure that she’d sussed out what my ‘problem’ was before she sold me the Werewoman. What had she seen that I had not all these years? What did she know that might have made her think that I would ever be interested in taking a drug that would turn me – renowned playboy and sexual hedonist – into the very sort of beautiful woman that I loved to sleep with?
And if she did think that – and if the idea did turn me on – was there a chance she might be right?
I decided that I needed answers, and I needed them from the source. I needed to talk to Jade again.
Chapter Eight
Timestamp: Friday, Tenth of August, 2018. Forty-nine days ago.
Before I returned from lunch that day I cancelled my tickets for my roundtrip flight to Mykonos that weekend, citing some business leads ‘in the city’ that I needed to follow-up on personally, and when I knocked off of work that evening I turned down several offers from friends and previous lovers in the city to meet up for dinner and then hit the bars later. I did intend to hit the bars later, of course, but only one bar in specific – the Eden’s Lounge – and I didn’t really want any of my friends around me when I confronted a certain beautiful, gender-bending bartender about the reason she’d sold me her stash of gender-bending pills.
When I got out of the office at 5:30 that afternoon I had several hours to kill before the Lounge opened. On a normal night after work, if I wasn’t heading out to meet up with anyone for dinner or for a date, I would usually wind my way over to the Olympic Fitness Club’s City Clubhouse, where I could grab a bite to eat, swim some laps, exercise for a bit, and relax before heading to the bars. That night, though, I didn’t really want to go anywhere where I was likely run into people I knew, so instead of heading there I decided to make a detour down to the Presidio District instead, where I could enjoy the aquatic facilities of the local YMCA and wait for night to fall. Once I got to the Y, I tore into some laps in the competition-sized adult pool and tried to figure out just what I wanted to ask the pretty young bartender once I had a moment alone with her.
✽✽✽
“Well, hello again,” the dark-chocolate-eyed beauty behind the bar with long and flowing matching hair that I knew only as ‘Jade’ turned and smiled brightly at me when I came in and greeted her. A television screen mounted over the bar on the wall behind her was showing a recent episode of Top Gear, but she switched it off as I chose my seat down along the end of the bar, furthest away from the nearby booths and in a sort of corner that I hoped would afford me a maximum of privacy while I tried to get some answers out of the girl. The bar was mostly deserted at the time that I arrived: it was barely 8:30, and most of the clubbing scene wouldn’t really start pouring in until 9, so for the moment, at least, I had the young woman’s attention largely to myself. That was good – that was exactly what I wanted.
“Hmmm… What was it…?” ‘Jade’ picked up a tall shot glass and tapped her golden-painted fingernails against it, trying to recall what I’d ordered last time, “Vodka Neat?”
“Yes, please,” I exchanged a smile with the pretty girl as she filled the glass, taking my seat on one of the high, padded stools across the bar from her. Above the waist she was wearing a snug, red sleeveless top with a ruched cowl neck that emphasized the full, round shape of her breasts. Below the waist she had on a tight, stretchy, shiny black faux-leat
her skirt that wrapped around her ample, round bottom, full hips, and sensuous thighs all the way down to just an inch or so above the knee, a pair of translucent black pantyhose, and some four-inch high heels in a glossy black finish. I briefly fantasized about what it must feel like to transform into a sexy, beautiful young woman like her, what it must feel like to get dressed in sexy clothes like she had on, to be admired and flirted with and desired by men and woman for the way that she looked, for the vivaciously-feminine personality she exuded, and to be fucked by people in that body … and grew hard beneath my pants. I tried to push those thoughts away again, but I found that I couldn’t. Instead, I folded my long coat discreetly on top of my lap and licked my lips as I waited for my drink, trying to find the courage to make myself ask the questions that I’d been planning to put to her all evening. I decided to wait until I’d had one, maybe two shots of my drink first, though. I figured that the burn and freeze of the alcohol would help me steel myself for reactions I was afraid to encounter, and answers I was afraid that I secretly wanted to hear.
But I never got the chance. As soon as I accepted the shot glass from her and tossed back my first drink, Jade raised an eyebrow at me and grinned, shaking her head. “You know, I sure didn’t think I would see you again so soon. At least – not looking like that.” She winked conspiratorially at me.
I gagged on the drink, sputtering and clapping a hand over my mouth so as not to spray it out everywhere. Well, so much for that question.
“You wanted me to take the—” I coughed and sputtered some more, grabbing for some napkins off of the bar and dabbing at my cheeks and my chin.
“Well, yeah, obviously?” Jade blinked at my reaction, seemingly confused, and then cocked her head to the side and sighed, a bemused look on her face. “Oh, no, come on, you didn’t?! So, what did you do with them, then? That was two thousand dollars of high-quality product – please tell me you didn’t throw them away.”
“No, I didn’t throw them away, I…” I frowned and sat back, finishing what was left of my drink and then sliding the empty glass across the bar for a refill, which she obliged. “I hooked up with someone. I thought that was what you meant by ‘spicing up my sex life.’”
“Ohhhhh…” Jade responded, understandingly. She pushed my full glass back across the bar towards me and gave me a patronizing smile. “So instead of trying it out on yourself, you found a willing partner to take them for you so that you could get your thrills… vicariously?” She wiggled her eyebrows at me. “Well… was it good for you?”
I threw back my second drink with a low growl. As much as I wanted to deny it, that had been exactly what I had done. I had wanted to see a man transform into a beautiful woman and, if she was willing and interested – sleep with her afterwards. The idea had turned me on more than anything in recent memory, and I had wanted to know just how complete and thorough the transformations were, so I did just that – I just never stopped to ask myself why I was so interested. “It was fantastic,” I admitted, softly, staring into the shot glass once I had emptied it. “The… change… was the hottest thing I’d ever seen. And the lady, afterwards…” I smiled a warm little smile, thinking about Brianna with affection, “she was one of the most beautiful and sexy and feminine and fun women that I’d ever been with, and she just seemed to love everything so much more – loved being who and what she was, loved being with me, loved the sex… all of it.” I accepted another drink with a nod and sipped it, more slowly this time. “We spent all night together, and it was the first time in… months, if not longer, that I’ve been able to just completely lose myself with someone. We… were… a tangle of limbs and curves and soft places and passionate kisses, for hours, and she was so… delightful, and refreshing to talk with. I’m seeing her again next week.”
Behind the bar, Jade took a slow little breath and shivered slightly, teething her lower lip for a moment in reaction to my words. “Well, now I’m a little jealous,” the pretty, dark-haired beauty with eyes the color of cognac admitted with colored cheeks, “most of the time my lovers are like ‘First gear, second gear, third gear, reverse,’ and it’s fun, it gets the job done, especially when they’ve got a gear shift thicker around than my elbow…” she let her eyes drift off over my head and towards the front of the establishment, and I followed her gaze, across the lounge to where an extremely tall, thick, remarkably broad-shouldered and powerfully-built man who was working as a bouncer was helping check the ID cards of incoming patrons. The man had to duck his head occasionally to avoid hitting the support struts of the entry-way ceiling, some eight-feet above the floor, and it looked like it was almost impossible for him to move around without bumping up against the walls on either side of his body – his shoulders were just too broad and his arms too thick.
“Wow!” I exclaimed in quiet amazement, glancing back over at Jade again with my mouth agape. I caught her gaze. “You slept with that?!” The pretty girl blushed and ducked her head, laughing pleasantly. “You know I think his arm muscles might be bigger than my head?”
“I know,” Jade chuckled, running a hand over her pink face as she tried to stop laughing. The big man seemed to sense our eyes on us, and he glanced around in our direction, so we quickly turned away again, looking back at each other across the bar. “He was almost three times my size, and I won’t lie – I wasn’t sure he would fit,” she popped a finger into a shot glass that she was holding, her cheeks a bright scarlet, “and honestly it was fun to be bedded by a man who could really turn up the torque, but…” she sighed and gave me a slow, appreciative look, “…but every once in a while it’s nice to have a lover who really knows his or her way around the engine chassis, and takes his or her time getting everything just right.”
I smiled back at Jade again and warmed a little inside, sensing an opening, and still every bit as interested in the possibility of spending a night or more with her as I had been on my previous visit to this establishment. She really was a truly beautiful woman, and she seemed to have the same sparkle of delight and excitement in her eyes that Brianna had possessed after her transformation – like she was just so delighted to be herself, to be a woman, to be beautiful and sexy and feminine, that she enchanted everyone and everything around her. I felt drawn to her, as I had felt with Brianna.
However, before I could open my mouth and suggest any of the possibilities that had only just begun forming in my mind, the pretty, dark-eyed woman with dark-colored hair reached across the bar top towards me and swatted me on the head with a coaster card. “But that is not why I sold you my pills!”
“Well, then, why did you?” I shot back, batting the card away and reaching under her arm to grab the bottle of vodka and an empty shot glass for myself. I leaned back in my seat and took a deep, calming breath, realizing that I was trembling slightly as I geared up to finally get the answer that I was so desperate for, and just as afraid of. I poured a shot of Vodka for the lady, and handed it to her, and then refilled my own glass as well. “Why me?”
She hesitated, regarding the shot in her hand for a moment before tossing it back, gagging slightly and wheezing, but coming up with a smile. “Ohhhhh! Wow!” she blew out a fragile, shaky breath and held a grin on me. “This body is NOT used to that much straight alcohol yet.”
“Well, then you should start building up a tolerance,” I suggested, pouring her another glass. Then I repeated my question: “Why me?”
Jade accepted the second shot with a sigh, then set it down on the bar top, giving me a sharp look again. “Alright, fine. Two reasons: One, you… you really like women.”
I jerked back a little bit, my face contorting into a squiggly frown of confusion. “Okay, but so do most of the men in here tonight. So, what?”
“No, actually,” Jade help up a finger and corrected me, sipping her second shot, “most of the men in here want to fuck women. Or date women. Or fall in love with a woman.” She set her glass down on the bar top and turned to another customer who had approached the bar
with a drink order. She fulfilled the order for him – two draft imports and a fuzzy navel – and then glanced back at me again, shaking her dark hair back. “Most men, even the good ones, tend think of women as ‘strange and mysterious creatures’ who aren’t ‘really’ like them.” She rolled her eyes mockingly, “They prefer the company of other guys, they’re intense about masculinity and machismo, and they think women are silly, frivolous beings that they want to fuck and keep on a perch for when they want to fuck again, but that girls themselves are boring and silly and that being feminine or girly is weird and weak and – I mean, you know I mean, right?”
I hesitated for a minute and then nodded, slowly. Yeah, that did sort of describe the majority of the men that I knew. Even the ones who had happy marriages, or lots of female friends. They always seemed to be in a hurry to ditch their dates, their girlfriends, or their wives and run off to socialize with the other men that they knew, as if spending time with the women in their lives was the most boring and onerous activity that they could endure. As if being-a-woman might rub off on them if they didn’t. I’d never understood that. I loved spending time with women, both inside and outside of the bedroom. I loved talking to them, walking with them, laughing with them, cooking with them…
“But you,” Jade sighed and smiled at me, waving one of her fellow bartenders over to help another approaching patron with a drink order so that she could focus on me instead, “you seem to really like ladies. As ladies. With all our girliness and our femininity and our lady-stuff. And you know, that’s kinda awesome, and rare. And maybe that’s just you being a top shelf, Luxury-model dude who cares about women and appreciates us for who we are and what we like, as opposed to the regular, run-of-the-mill Economy-class bros that file in and out of here all the time, but… maybe you wouldn’t hate spending some time as a lady yourself, ya know? Maybe you might even… kinda… enjoy it?” She blushed a little and ducked her face, lifting a trembling finger to tuck some stray, dark chocolate locks behind one ear. “I mean, I did. And I still do.”
